


Graceling

by Watermelons000



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Seven Kingdoms Trilogy - Kristin Cashore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassin Tony Stark, Aunt Peggy Carter, BAMF Maria Stark, BAMF Nick Fury, BAMF Peggy Carter, BAMF Tony Stark, Brainwashing, Heavy Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Italian Maria Stark, Italian Tony Stark, Kinda, Maria Stark was a Black Widow, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, Multi, Mutant Tony Stark, No Beta, Protective Nick Fury, Tony-centric, Uncle Nick Fury, We Die Like Men, You don‘t have to have read the books to understand this, not sarcasm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2019-07-23 21:06:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16166999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watermelons000/pseuds/Watermelons000
Summary: When the last of the Gracelings (a rare people born with extraordinary abilities) got married, no one knew who they were. It was only known that they were hidden well, and eventually was assumed to have been killed. Now trumped by mutants, Gracelings have faded into the background, only showing up in myths and legends.Only five people in the world know the truth. There is still one Graceling left. And he is Graced with survival.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on the Seven Kingdoms series by Kristin Cashore. All characters are taken from Marvel. I do not own anything.
> 
> Now, if you have read the book, let it be known that I deviate severely from the author’s canon. I am using her story as a jumping block to start off, and creating my own rules as I go along.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birth of a legend.

Maria was exhausted, but content. Her labor was long and tiring, arguably more energy-draining than the ops she ran as a Widow, but it was all worth it in the end. She smiled down at the wriggling bundle of blankets in her arms.

“ _Il mio bambino,”_ she murmured at her child.  _“Tesoro, io sono mamma. Come stai?”_ Her son stopped and blinked up at her with huge eyes, shining with intelligence. He was so tiny, the doctor’s hadn’t thought he was going to make it, but here he was beatuiful and breathing.

Maria stared at him with nothing but love and adoration bubbling in her chest. She hadn’t thought she would be able to have this, a family, but here was proof even if Howard was out in the Artic. In an effort to ease her frustration and anger at her husband for missing the birth of their son, she pressed the button to the side of her bed.

Almost immediately, the door to the room opened silently. The first ones through were Jarvis and Ana, two of her closest friends, who quickly rushed over. Jarvis began asking questions, did she need anything, was she comfortable, and Ana bent over to coo at her baby. Peggy, her sister in all but blood, slipped in followed closely by Nick. 

Laughing, Maria waved off the fretful butler. “Jarvis, calm down. I had a child, not a heart attack.” He blushed and backed off a little bit.

”How are you feeling?” Peggy asked.

”Like I just did three back-to-back missions,” Maria answered truthfully. “But happy.”

”And the kid?” Nick wondered gruffly but not unkindly. 

“A son,” Maria replied. “Howard will be so pleased.” A shadow passed over the room at the name of the absent father. In an attempt to change the subject, Maria smiled. “Will you all be his godparents?”

Four gobsmacked faces looked back to her. 

“Wh-wha-?” Jarvis stuttered, causing the entire room to chuckle at his enthusiasm.

”Of course we will,” Ana spoke for the two of them.

”Peggy, you and Daniel? Nick?” 

“It would be an honor, ma’am,” Nick said.

”As if we could refuse such an offer,” Peggy accepted. “What have you named him?”

Maria tilted her head at her now sleeping son consideringly. “Antonio. He’s named Antonio.” She lifted her arms up and passed the bundle to her sister.

”Hello, Antonio,” Peggy whispered. “I’m your Aunt Peggy. This is Aunt Ana.” She gestured to the butler’s wife, who was watching over her shoulder. They both melted a bit at the adorable yawn the small child gave.

The two men were watching the interaction with barely concealed love for their little thrown-together makeshift family. Maria met Nick’s eyes when they looked to hers, and she saw the moment it clicked in his mind.

 “He’s Graced?” Nick prompted. All head snapped up at his question that sounded more like a statement. Maria nodded, taking her _bambino_ back from Jarvis.

”We can’t tell yet,” Ana corrected. Maria felt her confusion, as she didn’t understand it yet either.

”No, his eyes have settled.” She sighed, and everyone’s gaze was drawn to hers. She saw them all realize she wasn’t wearing her colored contact, revealing her one brown, one blue-green eyes.

”How is that possible?” Peggy’s face had fallen into her mission-ready mask. 

“I don’t know.” Maria shook her head. “The last one who was this quick was Katsa, and her ancestors...” She drifted off as all of the pieces connected. “Howard, you son of a bitch.”

”What is it, ma’am?” Jarvis asked politely, sounding more than a little shaken at his friend’s normally proper language. 

“I know what Antonio’s Grace is.”

”How?” Ana’s tone wasn’t harsh, but rather curious.

“Howard’s heritage. He said he was clean. I wasn’t so sure thought so I went searching. I didn’t find anything immediately incriminating, but I have always had my suspicions.”

”What were those supicions?” Nick asked, preparing himself for the worst.

”Howard carries the X-gene.”

”So that means...” Peggy looked at her godson with interest.

”Yes,” Maria sighed. “Antonio is Graced with survival.”

**********

The thing about mixing mutants with Gracelings, was that one always had impossible odds of bearing a live child. And of course, if the offspring lived, there was only one Grace it could have: survival.

One part of Maria was relieved that her son had a somewhat similar Grace to hers (adaptation), but at the same time only one Graceling with survival was ever recorded so she had next to nothing on how Antonio’s Grace worked. Every Graceling, even if they had the same base Grace, was different and their gifts always developed differently.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she pulled her _tesoro_ closer to her chest. She stood up from the rocking chair Peggy had gifted her, and made her way down to the entry hall. 

Maria couldn’t help the way disgust curled in her stomach as voices drifted up the stair into her ears. She moved quietly, the Black Widow training never having left her no matter how much she refused to admit it. She turned the corner, resisting the urge to snarl.

Howard was finally home, having missed the first three months of his son’s life, and he didn’t even seem to care. Obadiah, the slimy bastard, was with him and smoking a cigar.

”Maria!” Obi called as soon as he was her. “Come here! Let me see my godson!” He chuckled heartily. She bared her teeth at him, but he was too dumb to take it as anything but a smile. He waltzed over and snatched the sleeping babe from her hands.

It took all of Maria’s self control not to stab and gut the horrible excuse for a man right there as he breathed smoke into her _bambino’s_ face. As it was, she took solace in the fact that in two months, Antonio’s _godfather_ was going to have a terrible kidnapping. He would be tortured for information, and ultimately succumb to his wounds. 

 _How much pain he would be in, truly, it would be such a terrible accident,_ Maria thought while she watched the moron’s fumbling wake up the child.

”Ah, look Howard! He inherited Maria’s heterochromia!” 

She smirked at Howard smugly when he spun around to stare at her incredulously. His eyes only widened as he took in Antonio’s one deep purple, one bright gold irises.

”Yes,” Howard said slowly, lost in thought. “How exciting.”

”Those are quite some unusual colors he’s got there, Maria.” Obadiah studied the child a bit more, who surprisingly hadn’t started crying yet. “We sure he’s not a mutant?”

Howard’s head shot up and he looked straight at her. She held his gaze, fire just barely hidden behind her eyes. 

“Oh, yes Obi, quite sure,” she said, voice sickeningly sweet. “It’s not like Howard carries the X-gene, after all. _Isn’t that right, Howard?_ ”

To his credit, Howard slipped on a mask of bravado. “As if I would have a mutie son.” He laughed, just slightly too harshly, but Obadiah didn’t seem to notice.

 “Hmmmm. Well, he’ll still have to wear contact lenses when he’s older, we don’t want people to talk.”

”Of course, Obi my friend,” Howard assured. “I’ll get him the best lenses money can buy.”

The disgusting creature finally handed Maria back her child. “I best get going. Company’s not going to run itself.” He winked at Maria, and she just barely held back her revulsion, instead giggling lightly.

“See you later I hope!” When he was finally out the door, she dropped all pretense and pleasantries, ending with, “You repugnant beast.”

 “Maria!” Howard said, scandalized.

”You made him a godfather?” She demanded. 

“Well, yes, I-“

Maria was at the end of her string. “Did you ask me first? No! That man is no good for this family! You weren’t here for our son’s birth! You don’t even know his name! You have no right to show up after being absent for three months of his life, and granting your disgusting business partner a special place in Antonio’s life!”

”You named him Antonio?”

”Yes Howard. I named my child, without any input whatsoever from my husband who wasn’t there for the birth or three months following it.”

Howard frowned, and hesitated before asking his next question. “Is...is he a Graceling?”

”Yes, no thanks to you,” Maria snapped. She didn’t care how harsh she was being. You know what else was harsh? Ignoring your pregnant wife and eventually newborn child for five months.

She took a small amount of satisfaction in the way he flinched. “What’s his Grace?”

”The same as mine,” she lied. “Adaptation.”

”Really? I thought that Gracelings born with the X-gene... never mind. His skill is adaptation? So he’s smart?”

”Yes, fortunately he got my gift and your intellegence.” She tried not to choke over the last word. Howard had been so kind to her when they met, taken care of her when she was pregnant, at least, while he was still there. And then he left her. She felt like she was seeing the real man too at last. By now, though, it was too late. The Black Widow part of her she liked to pretend was gone complimented Howard’s skill at deception.

”And Peggy and Daniel? Jarvis and Ana?” He seemed at least a little cowed by now, his shoulders slumped forward and head bent down.

”They love him, Nick too, he’ll have a good group of people to protect him.” The _when you’re undoubtedly not there_ wasn’t said aloud, but they both heard it.

” _Mamma,”_ Antonio cooed. She smiled at him, gentle and loving, and he giggled back.

” _Che cosa, cucciolo? Hmm?”_ She waggled her fingers along his stomach, causing him to burst out into full laughs. Her heart softened just a small bit for the completely lost  look that adorned her husband’s face.  Having a quick debate in her head, she asked, “Would you like to hold him?”

Howard gulped, but nodded nonetheless. She carefully placed Antonio into his arms and gently slipped out from under him. Father and son looked at each other, neither breaking the fragile moment between them. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Howard switched his gaze over to Maria. 

“The eyes...” he paused. “Are they my fault?”

Maria weighed her answer. “They are not a burden, so they are no one’s fault. He has heterochromia from me, but the fact that his eyes are so bold? That’s probably due to the X-gene, yes. We will never know for sure, however.”

”Of course,” Howard said. He offered the mother back her child, and she took him without hesitation. Howard’s face slipped seamlessly into his business mask, emotionless and distant. “I have work to do. Is there anything else?”

Maria pursed her lips but shook her head. “Thank you for asking, but no. It is almost nap time anyway.”

”Right. Then I’ll just be...” He gestured towards the hallway to his office. At her raised eyebrow, he made a hasty departure. 

“ _Andiamo_ ,” Maria told Antonio after one last look towards Howards retreating form. They returned to the nursery, where Ana was waiting with a tray of tea for the worn-out mother. 

“How is Howard?” Ana asked gently, placing the tray down on a side table and trading her a cup of apple cinnamon tea for Antonio. 

“He’s Howard,” Maria said with a sigh. She inhaled the steamy aroma drifting up from her drink. Taking an experimental sip, she was found it was the perfect temperature. “Thank you, Ana.”

The butler’s wife pause slightly before lowering Antonio the rest of the way into the crib. “Whatever for?”

”Everything,” Maria said. “Being here for me, allowing Jarvis to help me when Howard’s not here, treating Antonio like your own child. And Peggy and Nick always come by as well. I just, I wanted to say thank you for everything.”

”Maria, you should not have to thank us for it. I can speak for my husband and myself, and I am sure Mrs. Carter-Sousa and Mr. Fury would be inclined to agree. We love you and Antonio like family. Everyone will support you whenever Howard can’t make it, all you have to do is ask. In fact, I believe Mr. Carter-Sousa will be here soon, tomorrow afternoon at the latest.“

“Daniel’s coming?” Maria asked, surprised.

”Of course. As if he would pass up an opportunity to see his godson.” Ana shook her head, eyes wide. “Honey, we all plan on being very prominent figures in Antonio’s life. Mr. Carter-Sousa regrets not being here to help with the first few months, but unfortunately converting the SSR to SHIELD is a larger project than they thought, and without Howard here, well....” she trailed off, but Maria understood.

“Well, in that case, I suppose I should be well rested.” She smiled at her sister. “Have a wonderful evening Ana.”

”You too, Miss,” Ana replied over her shoulder on her way out. 

Maria looked at her child, sleeping peacefully in his oversized crib and went to stand by him. _Howard is home, and I don’t necessarily want to share a bed with him tonight,_ she mused, gently brushing a finger along Antonio’s cheek. _This bed is big enough for three people. Screw it,_ she thought, and crawled over into the bed next to her son. She pulled his body against hers, feeling his tiny heartbeat flutter in his chest. Soon, she drifted off, uncaring for what anyone else would think.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that kids can’t talk until they’re about six months, but Tony’s not normal so...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria and Tony.  
> Tony and Howard.  
> Howard and Maria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for Child Abuse and Violence

Tonio was two when the first time he actually discovered his Grace. Intellectually, he knew what it was, Mamma reminded him every time he asked, told him stories of a girl named Katsa with the same gift, but he finally understood.

He was already fluent in Italian, Hungarian, Russian, German Arabic and French thanks to Mamma, Aunt Ana, Aunt Peggy, Uncle Danny, Uncle Nicky, and Jarvis respectively, but English was seldom used unless father was there. And even though most children his age could barely speak their own native language and Tonio could speak six perfectly, he still blamed himself for not understanding the men who managed to get him. Yet, here he was, kidnapped and tied to a chair because he didn’t realize what they were saying until it was too late.

His breathing sped up in panic. He automatically opened his eyes, ever so slightly relieved when he noticed he was alone in a small room about halfway between a walk-in closet and bedroom size-wise. He took in everything he could, so his eidetic memory could recall all of the details later when he was rescued.

He wished his hands weren’t tied behind his back so he could rub at his eyes. They were irritated from the brown contacts father always made him wear when they went out in public. Tonio liked the color of his natural eyes. No one else had any like his. He listened to Mamma though, because she always said that Gracelings would be viewed as dangerous, that he would be thought to be a mutant and he could tell no one about his powers. Not even father.

He was pulled out of his musings when the door burst open. The man who came in was red-faced and yelling at a phone. He stalked up to Tonio and yanked his head back by the hair, causing the child’s eyes to begin to well up with tears.

The man said something into the phone, and Tonio recognized his father’s voice when it drifted through. He called out in English, wincing at his slight accent. It wasn’t good to have an accent.

He almost sobbed when he heard his mother’s Italian asking after him.

“ _Sto abbastanza bene. Mamma dove sei?”_

_“Sulla mia strada. Cosa vedi?”_

Tonio relayed the dimensions of his room, any smells, and the way the man looked as fast as he could, switching languages three times to make sure the man couldn’t understand what he was saying. His captor stared at him confused for a moment, and Tonio recognized the signs of drug use within his red-rimmed eyes and disheveled hair. He told his Mamma as much.

The man either caught on or got tired of Tonio’s talking because he pulled the phone back and went back to screaming at father. He got more and more worked up at whatever father was telling him, and eventually he stopped halfway through his sentence.

His eyes narrowed in on Tonio, who unconsciously tried to squirm away. The man pulled his hand back, and Tonio flinched, waiting for the pain.

All of the sudden, the world seemed to slow down around him. He already knew that the man meant to hit him, but angles and numbers flew before his eyes. **Tilt your head to the left.**

He couldn’t stop the blow, but he could keep it from hurting less. So he did. He turned his head so that the slap glanced off of his face instead of smacking him full on, like it was intended to.

A resounding pop echoed around the room, although for as loud as it was, it didn’t hurt too badly. Even so, Tonio let out a small whimper. The man looked at him with smug satisfaction, probably thinking he hit the child harder than he did. The cellphone, almost forgotten, went silent for a minute before father was back on, his voice eerily calm and uncaring.

Minutes passed as his captor and his father argued. Tonio was beginning to lose hope that Mamma would find him any time soon, but then he heard a booming crash somewhere above his head. He started yelling, hoping that he might gain someone’s attention.

The man spun around and appeared to be ready to silence him, when the door to his small closet/room swung open hard enough for the doorknob to punch a hole in the wall behind it.

Mamma and Aunt Peggy strode into the room, the handguns in their grips focused on his captor.

“ _Mamma_!” Tonio cried. “ _Mamma, non mi piace. Aiutami._ ”

“Shh,” his Mamma soothed as she moved behind him to untie the ropes. “ _Va bene amore mio. Io sono qui._ ”

Tonio didn’t know what happened to the men who managed to get the jump on him. He didn’t care, either. As his Mamma carried him out of the nasty run down house, he made a new resolution. He would never be caught unprepared like this again.

********

The next two years were a blur of learning and training. It took some persuasion, but Tonio finally convinced his Mamma, Aunts and Uncles to teach him how to defend himself. He began reading books in other languages until he was fluent in at least ten dialects. His family was impressed (except father, who was never proud of anything Tonio did), but they didn’t know whether he was so quick at picking things up due to his Grace or his genius. Tonio knew though. It was a mix of both.

One day, father came into his room early in the evening. That was the first time he ever ignored his Grace.

“How old’re yew boy?” Father slurred.

Tonio grimaced at the smell of whisky on his breath. He hated the alcohol, it made it more difficult to understand Father despite his fluent English.“Four, sir. My birthday was last week.”

He was slightly curious at where this was going. Mamma had gone on a mission with Uncle Nicky, Aunt Peggy and Uncle Daniel were back in England, and Jarvis and Aunt Ana had already called it a day and retired back to their rooms. In short, he was bored.

Father sniffed. “Old’nough. C’mon boy.” He turned and stalked out of the room, apparently confident Tonio would follow him.

The child scrambled after him, following his father to the study. Father strode over to a door off of the office with quick steps and swiftly entered a code into the keypad next to it. The door swung open with the hiss of hydraulics, revealing a brightly lit staircase descending from the floor, leading into where Tonio knew the labs were situated.

After a moment’s hesitation, he followed father down with interest. His eyes widened as he hopped down from the last step. The labs were amazing. Workbenches were strategically placed in rows, meticulously organized and neat. Whiteboards were filled with equations and sketches, split into their own little boxes. Cabinets lined the walls, full of tools and labeled beakers full of unknown substances. Father broke him out of his admiring trance.

“Yew heard o’ cap’n ‘merica, boy?”

“A little,” Tonio admitted.

“A little, sir!” Father snapped.

“A little, sir,” Tonio corrected.

“Tha’s better. Yew are goin’ t’help me look for him.”

Tonio stilled. “But sir,” he began cautiously. “Isn’t Captain America dead?”

“Bah!” Father shouted. “No, no he’s not! He’s ‘live ‘n I’m gonna find ’im.”

Tonio’s Grace was practically screaming at him to drop the subject, so he did.

“What are we doing today?” He asked instead. And then belatedly he added, “sir.”

“Yew’re gonna help me build a-a tracker,” Father sputtered. Tonio hummed in acknowledgement, which prompted his father to continue. “Look o’er these blueprints.” A stack of papers was shoved towards the boy.

Tonio realize that they were not only the plans for the tracker, but future Stark Industries products as well. He glanced over them, committing them to memory. His Grace perked up a bit at the constructions for a small pistol, but otherwise gave the rest a feeling of disapproval. At once, he knew that his gift would not help him here. Learning how to build a car engine was unnecessary to survival. Undeterred, however, he memorized every paper himself.

“Ya finished, boy?” Father asked when we tried to hand them back. His voice was steadily becoming clearer, which caused a small burst of relief for the child that he wouldn’t have to work so hard to understand and could instead focus on the construction going on in front of him.

“Yes sir,” Tonio confirmed.

“Okay. Now I’m gonna build each piece, and you’re gonna stand there and hand me the tools I ask for, and hold the ones I give ya. Don’t complain, don’t drop anything, ya hear me? Ya drop sum’thin, you’re out.” He lazily hooked a thumb over his should in the vague direction of the door.

“Yes sir,” Tonio repeated. And so they got to work.

It was not quite pleasant, but bearable for the child. He got to learn from his father, handed him a drill here, a torque wrench there, and took the tools back when needed. And in return his father told him all about Captain America, the war hero. The fun came to an end though, after Tonio handed father a blowtorch.

Father held it out to him when he finished, wand first, tip glowing with blazing heat. When Tonio hesitated, his father shook it. “Take it.”

Ignoring his instincts and not wanting to get kicked out, the child took the instrument. He felt nothing for a second, and then.

_Pain_.

**Drop it!** His Grace practically yelled at him, but he shook his head, remaining steadfast in his grip. He couldn’t feel anything other than the torch blazing through flesh and tendon, couldn’t smell anything other than burning skin, couldn’t see anything other than a fiery hell engulfing his vision.

**Drop it, you idiot! Drop it!** Tonio pushed away his instincts, eyes welling up with tears he couldn’t hold back. He was shaking, trembling in pain, but he kept the implement of torture in his hand. He could feel every nerve being fried, every blood vessel being cauterized, but he would. Not. Let. Go.

**Come on!** His Grace screamed. **Release the stupid thing! It’s not worth it!** Ignoring it, Tonio tried to focus on what his father needed. Finally, he must have released a short breath or soft sound because Father glanced over.

His eyes widened when he saw the blistering flesh, but hardened not a second later. “Put the torch away Anthony.” Tonio tried to, but found the wand was stuck to his hand, imbedded in his palm.

“Stupid boy,” his father berated. He reached over and ripped the hunk of metal, and as a result skin, from his son’s hand, drawing a loud cry from the boy. If it was at all possible, Father’s eyes hardened even further. He smacked Tonio across the face.

“Stark’s don’t cry, boy. We’re made of iron. Quit those tears, you’re done here. Go to your room.”

Tonio, clutching his wounded hand to his chest, red imprint on his face burning with betrayal, nodded and stumbled out. Somehow he eventually made it to his room. He didn’t quite know what to do with his wound, so he dragged himself over to a corner and placed his hand palm up, looking at the damage. He would have been fascinated with all of the layers of cells and bits of bone poking through if it hadn’t been radiating pain.

He shrunk into himself, wishing for comfort, but not wanting to go bother Jarvis and Ana. At once, his Grace began it’s aid, but not without comment.

**That was dumb** , it said, lacking the heat it usually contained when griping at him for a shoddy move during training. **If you hadn’t let go soon, you probably would have lost the limb. Amputation is not always conductive to survival.**

Tonio hung his head in shame.

There was a feeling concurrent to that of a sigh. **As is, this can be healed. It will hurt, though.**

“Doesn’t it always?” Tonio couldn’t help but snark. When healed at a normal rate, the body could naturally adjust to any discomfort. Enhanced healing in an otherwise baseline human, though, that was an entirely different matter. “Do it.”

Tonio grit his teeth as to not scream when he felt the electrical impulses race through him, more powerful than the ones that helped his bruises and scrapes. He felt every single cell divide and divide again, and as each nerve ending reattached, he almost passed out at the rush of information (pain) that assaulted his brain.

Not a moment too soon it was finished. The four-year-old glanced at his hand, fascinated to only see scarring on the otherwise unblemished skin. The limb ached, but it was manageable.

Tonio thanked his Grace as it retreated back to its dormant state, ever watchful in case of any danger.

He crawled into bed, and dreamt that night of a blond-haired, blue-eyed, man-made god, leading the charge into a beautiful and horrific battle.

*******

Ever since that first invitation to learn, Tonio cold always be found following his father around like a little duckling, earning him the nickname of Ducky from Aunt Peggy. Father never really seemed to notice him, however, and only let him into the lab when no one else was around.

Tonio, now renamed Anthony and Tony by Father, knew there was something wrong every time he went into the lab. His Grace hated it, but Tony was a curious child, and damaging his hands and sometimes legs and torso was a small price to pay for the vast knowledge Father showed him.

Often, Father would let him in just to ignore him as he poured over maps and devices. Tony, allowing himself to indulge his Grace a little, would become meek and quiet, sitting in a corner to work on his new circuit board.

The worst happened when he completed his latest project. He ambled to the office to show his father, who had long since gone upstairs. Upon opening the door, he could smell the nasty whisky stuff Father drank, and his Grace flared up with dramatic aversion.

“C’mere, boy,” his father slurred. “What’ve yew got there?”

“A-a-a circuit board, sir,” Tony stuttered nervously. “Do you like it?”

Father snatched his creation out of his hands. He inspected it closely. And began to laugh. “This, this is so-so SHITTY!” He drunkenly bawled. “St’pid boy! Look’t this mess! Yew didn’t even make the solderin’ straight!” He cackled with mad glee. “Of course I wood’ve a retard for a son!”

Tony fought to keep his tears at bay while his father threw insults at him. His Grace was blaring like an alarm to flee, but he didn’t. How he wished he did.

Father stopped suddenly halfway through a loud guffaw. He narrowed his eyes at Tony. “Cap’n ‘Merica woulda done better,” he sneered and threw the board down, shattering all of Tony’s precious work into a million pieces. “Where ‘re yew’re contacts, boy?”

He lunged at Tony, who flinched back hard, but still wasn’t able to get away in time. And Father snapped.

Blow after blow rained down upon the child. He tried to escape, but found he couldn’t. The most he could do was hold up his arms and try to protect himself from the malice of the one he called Father. Betrayal stung, hot and fresh, and it somehow hurt worse than the beating he was taking. The tears that had formed in his eyes remained hidden though. The pain would surely be worse if Father caught him crying like the baby he always said he was.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the fists and feet stopped coming. Tony glanced up from his spot on the floor to see his father, no, he no longer deserved that title, to see Sir, with his back turned.

“Get outta here,” Sir snapped, and Tony scrambled to obey. He dragged himself out of the office, holding back sobs. He crawled back to his room, collapsing outside his door.

He was unaware of how long he lay there, twitching and spasming in pain because his Grace didn’t have the energy to fix him, when he heard a gasp.

“ _Oh mio bambino_ ,” Mamma cried, horrified, as she rushed over to him. She brushed her hand along his most definitely broken arm, drawing a cry from his lips. “ _Cos’e successo_?”

“ _Mamma_ ,” Tony whispered, echoing the same words he had said when he had been kidnapped. “ _Mamma aiutami._ ” And then the world went black.

*****

To say Maria was furious was an understatement. She was the physical embodiment of rage, with more anger than one of Hell’s furies themselves. As soon as she sent Tony to the hospital with Jarvis, Ana and Peggy, she stormed into Howard’s office, throwing open the door with ease and slammed her husband against the wall, knife to his throat.

Immediately she was repulsed by the scent of liquor on his breath, but she held fast in her grip on the blade.

“What were you thinking!” She growled in his face. “How could you do that to a child, our child!” Howard was turning blue with lack of air, and he motioned to her that he couldn’t speak without breathing.

Maria took a step back, causing him to fall to the floor in a heap, gasping for breath.

“I suggest you choose your next words carefully,” she threatened.

“Or what?” Howard rasped. “You’ll kill me? _I suggest_ you hold off on that.” He snorted sarcastically. “You can’t touch me.”

“What makes you say that?” Maria asked, a small shiver of fear making its way down her spine at his carelessness at his death.

“Because I have information.” He sneered that last word. “I die, I have it rigged to release all of the information I have on Gracelings. Including you and your past.”

The Black Widow could never show weakness, but if she did, her face would have paled. Nevertheless, she tried to call his bluff. “No you don’t,” she announced with faux confidence.

“I think you’ll find that I do,” he retorted. “One press on a button, or my death, and the entire world will know about Gracelings. They’ll know about your past, and your Grace, and you will be exposed. Have you heard about what’s been happening to mutants lately? They at least have a few people to stand up for them, keep it from getting out of control. But you, no, you and Anthony have no one.” His voice somehow became darker.  “I know you lied to me too.”

Maria felt fresh fear paralyze her. “About what,” she feigned innocence.

“Anthony’s gift. He doesn’t have adaption, does he?” Howard looked closely at her face. “No, there’s only been one other recorded case of a baby surviving when the parents included a mutant, hasn’t there? And her name was Katsa.”

Maria gripped the handle of her knife hard.

“Do you know what Katsa’s gift was?”

She resisted to urge to close her eyes tight, to just stab the man there.

“Killing.”

Maria released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. He didn’t know about survival Gracelings. Small mercies. It was true, for the longest time Katsa had been mistaken to have a killing Grace, and her real one wasn’t very widely shared amongst outsiders. She noticed Howard was still talking.

“So here’s what going to happen. I am going to use Anthony, don’t you argue, I know you and Pegs have been training him, to take out my rivals. You will not interfere, otherwise the entire world will know about the Black Widow with the gift of adaption and her son with the gift of killing. There will be no where for you to hide. If you even think about running, trying to get away with our son, I release the information. Not even Nick or the SSR or SHIELD will be able to help you. And I, the poor genius swindled by your seducing ways, will be leading the charge. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Maria gritted out.

“Good,” Howard spit. “Now get out of my office. Tell the hospital he fell down the stairs or something. Pay off the doctors. And make sure he wears his fucking contacts!”

And so the Black Widow left, feeling completely helpless for the first time in her life. She made her way to the car where Nick was waiting for her, and ignored his questions as she watched the landscape on the way to the hospital pass. Not for the first time, she wondered if Howard really was a mutant.

Never before had she met someone so adept at manipulation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> I am well enough. Mamma, where are you?  
> On my way. What do you see.  
> Mamma, mamma I don’t like it. Help me.  
> It’s okay, my love. I am here.  
> My baby, what happened?  
> Mamma, help me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Maria.  
> Tony and Howard.  
> Tony and his Prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention, I mess with the timeline a bit. Tony was born in 1981. This isn’t really important rn but thought I would let ya’ll know before I dig us too deep into this rabbit hole.

Tonio, no, _Tony_ didn’t quite remember what all happened at the hospital. There were snippets of conversation, mostly curses about Sir, and reassurances that he couldn’t catch but appreciated nonetheless. The one thing he could recall, however, with perfect clarity was Mamma’s face.

When she swept into the room, she had the perfect mask of caring mother and he almost fell for it. He saw it, though, in her eyes, unburdened for once by contacts. They broiled and simmered with rage, hatred, and the one he hated the most, helplessness. He was sure none of the others had seen it, never mind recognized it, but he did.

“ _Come stai, cucciolo?_ ” she asked him. [How are you, puppy?]

“ _Bene, Mamma, guarda_ ,” he rolled up his sleeves to show her his rapidly fading bruises.[Good, Mamma, look.]

His Grace was finally getting the nutrients and energy it needed from the IV inserted in his arm. It was suspiciously silent as it did its work, and he got the distinct feeling it was shocked by Sir as well. Not his actions, per se, but how far he took it.

His squinted his eyes shut as his Grace alerted him to brace himself for the mending of his broken bones. He grit his teeth like always, and swallowed the scream threatening to overcome him. Then, as quick as it started, it was over.

“ _Tutto bene_?” Mamma’s eyes were filled with concern. He nodded.“ _Brava. Andiamo. Non possiamo rimani qui_.” [All good? Good job. Let’s go. We can not stay here.]

“ _Perché_?” Tony wondered, blinking up at her. [Why?]

“ _Non mi piace l’ospedale_ ,” Mamma told him with a wink and small smile, but he could sense the urgency behind it.[I don’t like the hospital.] He grinned back at her.

“ _Okay_ ,” Tony swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and finally gave his attention to the other three in the room. “Hi Uncle Nicky.”

The man snorted. “Hey yourself, kid.” Tony smiled at Jarvis and Ana. Noticing his searching eyes, Uncle Nicky continued. “Peggy and Sousa will be here tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Tony repeated, then lifted up his arms at the spy. Uncle Nicky rolled his eyes but picked him up anyway.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Aunt Ana asked politely. They all confirmed. “Very well, Mr. Jarvis will go prepare the car and check us out. Where to, Mrs. Maria?”

Mamma had her face on when she was trying to hide how unhappy she was. “We have to go back to the mansion.”

“What?” Jarvis exclaimed “All due respect, why?”

Tony watched as Mamma tried to decide what to do. She glanced at him. He realized she was weighing how much to reveal to him.

“You can tell me, Mamma. Sir’s done something bad, hasn’t he?” He studied her closely.

Mamma sighed. “Yes, Tonio, Howard’s... not being very good right now. In fact, if we don’t go back he will do something very, very bad. Do you remember how I told you I was a Black Widow?” At his enthusiastic head shaking, she continued. “And remember how we can’t let anyone know about Gracelings too? Well, Howard’s threatened to tell the entire world about my crimes, so the public will want to hunt me down, and then release our Graces too so they know what to look for.”

Tony mulled over the plan seriously. “If he pretends to be innocent they’ll believe him over us, even if we tell them he was mean. They’ll probably treat us worse than the mutants.” His eyes widened. “Mamma! The mutants! Can they help us?”

Mamma saddened further. “No, they can’t. The mutants have their own problems, and Gracelings have always been taboo to the X-gene carriers.”

“Oh.” He fell deeper into thought, but he couldn’t think of any better plan. If they tried to escape, there was no doubt in his mind Sir would find them. It wouldn’t be too hard for just him if he was older, but a lone four-year-old would definitely draw attention. Mamma’s gift was adaption, not deception. She wouldn’t be helpless, but it would be harder to hide with a kid. Even then, with Sir’s resources, he wasn’t sure that they hadn’t already been implanted with those new microchips sir was trying to build popularity up for. “Then we gotta go back.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around Uncle Nicky’s neck unconsciously. Uncle Nicky squeezed him a little harder in return.

“Don’t worry, young sir. We will do all we can to keep you away from Mr. Stark,” Jarvis’ eyes crinkled kindly.

“Yes,” Mamma said. “I want you to promise me. You will never willingly go into the same room as Howard without one of us or Peggy or Daniel present. Do you understand? I can’t have a repeat of last night.” They were all kind enough not to point out how her voice cracked towards the end of her plea.

“I promise Mamma.”

“I’m sure Mr. Jarvis will be kind enough to get you some tools and text books so you can continue to build as well,” Mamma added. “That way, you won’t have to suffer in the lab to learn. You can keep everything in your room. Does that sound alright?”

“Yeah!” he said, a little excited at the prospect. “Will you and Aunt Peggy still train me?

“As if I would miss any chance to spend time with godson!” Aunty Peggy said as she swept into the room dramatically. “How are you feeling, Ducky?”

“Aunt Peggy! I thought you were in England! Is Uncle Daniel with you?”

“I’m right here, kiddo,” Uncle Danny announced as he hobbled in through the door. “Your Aunty needs to learn how to slow down for us disabled folks.” He winked at Tony.

Tony started to squirm so Uncle Nicky handed him off to Peggy. With a huff, she managed to maneuver Tony onto her hip, still holding on to her briefcase in her other hand.

“You’re getting big, Ducky. When was the last time I saw you? A year ago?”

Tony giggled. “No, Aunt Peggy it’s been less than a week.”

“Preposterous,” Peggy scoffed. “There’s no way it has been a week. You have to have gained at least three kilos. Go on, Daniel, tellAntonio how silly he’s being.”

“Yeah, Daniel,” Tony said with a perfect imitation of Peggy’s accent. “Go on, tell me how silly I am being.”

Aunt Peggy gasped. “Why you cheeky little boy.” Tony squealed when Uncle Daniel suddenly snatched him up from under his armpits. He spun him in a circle, making sure he wasn’t life-threatingly injured anymore.

“Mamma-“ Tony started to laugh as Uncle Danny began to tickle him, who apparently decided that the few scrapes Tony had left were nothing to serious. “ _Basta, zio Daniel, basta_!” [Enough, Uncle Daniel, enough!]

Finally the torture was over. Aunt Ana saved Tony from Daniel’s evil clutches and placed him back down on the bed. Exhausted from the previous day’s events and the toll he took allowing his Grace to heal him so quickly, Tony began to drift off. He was safe for now, Jarvis and Aunt Ana watching over him while Mamma, Uncles Nicky andDaniel, and Aunt Peggy discussed boring stuff like paperwork. He was content and relaxed, oblivious to the fact that it would be the last time he felt that way for a long, long, while.

******

Tony trained harder than he ever had before. He took up ballet and expanded his fighting techniques to a whole variety of weapons. Granted, making things go boom would always be his favorite way to escape a perilous situation, but he treated every new skill with equal respect.

Somedays, when Mamma was mad her latest scheme to off Obadiah Stane was thwarted, they took to the music room. There, he learned how to play a slew of instruments but mostly only sticking to the piano like Mamma. By the time Sir’s business partner had evaded Mamma’s Plan M (there was nothing to it but sheer, dumb luck that allowed the man to live this long), he was the one playing the notes, while Mamma sat next to him and sang.

Regardless of his other pasttimes, Tony advanced quickly academically. True to his word, Jarvis brought Tony books and tools and in practically no time, his room had been unintentionally converted into a lab. His Grace was also growing, somewhat. He was getting better at picking up new things, and his instincts were increasingly sharper.

Tony did a good job avoiding Sir. Mamma and all of his godparents always found a good excuse to occupy the man’s attention when they did have to come in contact, whether it be for a public event or a simple crossing of paths within the mansion. Mamma, at the risk of her own health, fought with Sir all the time nowadays. She always seemed to challenge his every move, sometimes even going as far as to mock Sir’s efforts.

The one thing they did agree on was that Tony most definitely couldn’t attend school. Mamma was worried that someone would see Anthony’s scars and bruises from various tools, training, and unfortunate encounters and begin to ask questions, or that Tony would unintentionally reveal something private. Sir didn’t want him to go for selfish reasons, citing that the boy didn't need an education considering all he would be doing would be taking out various competitors for Sir. Too bad for him, Tony was already learning, absorbing any and all information he could, mainly keeping to science and mathematics but not failing in language arts and history.

The downside of not attending school, ignoring the fact that he would be out of the same house as Howard upwards of 7 hours a day, was that there was no way for Tony to make friends. Not that he cared. At least this way, there were no distractions from his training or inventing.

Tony sat back on his heels. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, which were irritated by his contacts and the bright rays of the early morning sun.

_Was I really up all night?_

**According to the position of the sun and the moon in the sky, the constellations or lack thereof, and every clock in this house, yes, you have been awake for thirty eight hours.** Tony smirked at his Grace, whom he had creatively named Grace. He guessed to others, it might be weird having another voice in their head, but for him it was a reassuring presence that would never leave him.

_At least I finished_ , he thought. He was six years old and before him sat a full car engine built from the ground up. He rushed out of the room, excited to show Mamma, except he smacked right into something hard.

From his spot on the floor, he looked up with dread dragging his heart into his stomach. Sir loomed overhead, but he didn’t seem mad. He didn’t smell like whisky too, which was a rare occurrence.

“Anthony!” Sir cried. “Just the one I wanted to see!”

Tony scrambled to his feet. “Really, sir?” He ventured hesitantly. Sir never wanted to see him. He could count on one hand the amount of times Sir had specifically requested his presence and all of them had been for the press.

“Of course, my boy! Show me what you’ve been working on!” He grinned, probably in way he thought was reassuring, but only served to unsettle the young child further.

Tony thought over the proposition cautiously. Somehow sensing his hesitance, a shadow passed over Sir’s face.

“Anthony,” he began sternly, smile falling right off like a dropped mask. “You _will_ show me what you’ve been working on.”

Tony rushed to obey. He turned back to his room and uncovered his creation. Sheepishly, he presented the car engine.

Sir bent down to examine it. “You should have used different materials for this port,” he explained, although not as sharply as Tony expected. “You need an extra outlet here to harness all of the excess energy. This wiring would be better paired with a steel rod, as opposed to titanium. Shoddy craftsmanship, but the public are idiots, they won’t know the difference. We must tell the press!” He grinned and pulled out his phone.

“Obi! To- no, no I’m well aware. Of course.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. Now-wai-sh- Obadiah!” He shouted into the receiver and Tony held back a flinch. “Thank you. Organize a press conference. Tony built a car engine.” Chuckling, Sir examined his nails. “Oh, I know. Yes, throw in some words like child prodigy and genius in there as well. The masses will eat it right up. Great. See you tomorrow.” As he hung up the phone, Sir turned back to Tony.

“You will behave for the press tonight, got it boy?”

“Yes sir,” Tony replied, almost getting whiplash by the change of emotion in Sir’s voice.

“Good. Go train or something. I want you mission ready by eight tomorrow evening. Can you do that?” He sneered.

“Yes sir.”

Howard hummed and turned on his heel, leaving a stunned child behind in his wake.

******

The press conference was just that...a press conference. Tony charmed the crowd, playing up his innocence factor and answered every question shyly. His new contacts made his eyes seem larger than they were, and he pretended to fidget every time someone turned their attention to him. The reporters were all undeniably charmed by him, and he had no doubt that the newspapers would have a field day.

Now he was on a mission. He wore his new black tactical suit Uncle Nicky had specially made for him. His vest was heavy, but it was a new Stark Industries fabric that was stronger and lighter than Kevlar so he didn’t complain. Custom holsters held more weapons than any adult should be permitted to use, all of which he had made himself basing them off of Sir’s blueprints. His aim was immaculate, his combat skills not even bested by Mamma, and he had Grace on his side too.

Soundlessly, he snuck through the night, darting into the shadows next to the fancy apartment building. After scouting out the area, he determined the best way of entry would be through the open window on the third floor, where he wouldn’t set off the alarm system. The tenant had a dog as well, so he was certain the motion sensors were off. It was almost too easy.

Tony pulled himself up the dumpster and climbed up to the fire escape. Thanks to the ballet Mamma taught him, his movements were silent and fluid. Grace was buzzing pleasantly in the back of his mind, feeding off of his adrenaline, but otherwise content to let things play out unless he needed intervention.

He slipped into the apartment and out into the hall so fast, the dog didn’t even stir. Tony made his way over to the breaker box for the floor, and cut the power, sending the corridor into darkness. He dashed for the stairs and took them two at a time, counting the seconds in his head. Upon reaching thirty, the rest of the power in the building went out. Mamma had received his cue then.

On the outside he showed no emotions, each move calm and calculated. On the inside, however, he was jittery and excited. This was the moment he had been training for. This was the result hours upon hours of work, and he was finally there.

He was on the top floor now, having easily climbed the eleven flights of stairs in the dark. Grace had enhanced his sight for him, allowing his eyes to adjust faster than the average human’s.He began to slink low to the ground, pausing only to pick the lock to the penthouse suite. Then he was in.

The tenant was moving around his apartment, obviously looking for a source of light. Wordlessly, Tony snuck up behind him and slit his throat. A bit more brief of an end than he would like, but Mamma told him he couldn’t play with his prey until he was a little older.

Tony smiled to himself and pulled out the camera pen Sir had given to him. He snapped a picture of the body. Unable to help himself, he carved a diamond into the man’s flesh, placing two triangles on each top line; a calling card. Stepping back, he examined his work.

“Ew,” he scrunched up his nose at the blood steadily running towards his boots. He quickly backed up and made a wide arc around his victim. Then, without even a glance back, he opened the window and began climbing the fire escape.

**Not bad,** his Grace complimented him. **But a fox? You want that to be your press name?**

_Yeah_ , Tony thought. _I think it fits. They’re playful, often overlooked, and sly._

**Can’t argue with that logic,** Grace admitted after a moment. **I still think you could’ve chosen something better though.**

Tony rolled his eyes, and reached for the next rung on the ladder. _Like you can think of anything that’s better than that._

**I can too, I just choose not to.**

_Sure_. Tony pulled himself over the edge and ran across the rooftop. He leapt from his building to the shorter next to it, tucking into a roll as he landed. _Now hush, I’ve got to get us to the extraction point._

*********

**_Senator Wilkins Found Dead in Apartment; Police Uncertain of Killer_ **

 

**_Howard Stark’s Prodigy Child_ **

****

**_New Killer? Senator Ryan Wilkins Discovered Dead_ **

****

**_New Genius: The Stark Heir_ **

 

**_The Fox; New Serial Killer on the Loose?_ **

****

**_The Adorable Six-Year-Old That Built a Car Engine_ **

 

**_Police: We Are Doing All We Can to Track Down the Killer Known as “The Fox”_ **

****

**_Money, Fame, Genius: How the Youngest Stark Has It All_ **

 

**_Murdered by a Fox: Ryan Wilkins’ Story_ **

****

**_Anthony Stark: The Prodigy Child_ **

 

**_“If The Fox Is Out There, We Will Find Them,” Police Say_ **

****

**_Anthony Stark To Go To Boarding School?_ **

 

**_The Fox..._ **

****

**_Anthony Stark..._ **

 

**_A Foxy Killer..._ **

****

**_Engineering Prodigy..._ **

 

**_Clever and Deadly Fox..._ **

****

**_Child Genius..._ **

****

**_Where Is The Fox Now?_ **

 

**_When Will We See Anthony Stark Again?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pretty much filler chapter, full of writer’s block and sadness. Next chapter things really start picking up ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Morons.  
> Agent Coulson and Tony.  
> Phil and Nick Fury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! It’s been a while, so here’s a longer chapter to make up for it.

At seven years old Tony wasn’t afraid of death. Pain was an old friend due to Sir’s near constant vigilance on his training now that he killed a man (several actually). Deception and manipulation came to him as easy as breathing, and it only took him thirty seconds to make up a main plan and at least three backup plans for any of his missions. The press contained a never ending cycle of the same headlines wondering who he was, who was his next target, and where was he now. And Tony _thrived_ in it. He loved the secrecy it brought him, and the inside joke whenever they would put and article on Tony Stark right next to the headline of The Fox. He was hiding in plain sight and it was _glorious._

Still, the sixth time he got kidnapped was a surprise (not). He noticed the men scoping him out immediately after stepping into the charity gala of the week. So he was bored, already tiring of the Massachusetts countryside. Sue him (and lose). Also, they weren’t as subtle as they thought they were, inducing within him a bout of curiosity.

When one of them finally ‘caught him alone and unprepared’ he allowed the rag to slip over his nose and mouth and let the chloroform wash over him. Chloroform, so cliche.

Tony barely even had a headache when he woke up, courtesy of Grace. He rolled his neck, glancing around easily with the lack of a blindfold. A warehouse, he was in a fucking warehouse tied to a chair in a fucking office. With zip ties. No no no no no. This could not be happening, he would not stand to become the protagonist of every awful action movie ever. Just think of the joke material Uncle Nicky and Mamma would have if and when they found out about this.

_Oh shit_ , he thought suddenly. _I knew I forgot something_.

**She is actually going to kill you** , Grace commented through his panic.

_Not helping,_ he reprimanded. He surveyed the situation one more time. There was no movement in the air that he could tell, the door to his not inconsiderately sized room shut tight. The only thing he could hear was his own breathing, gentle and slow just like Mamma taught him. Fuck it.

Tony flexed his arm causing the hidden sheath under the sleeve of his tuxedo to release. The knife slipped into his hand with practiced ease. Carefully he adjusted his hand on the grip, mindful as to not slit his own wrists. Wiggling his fingers deftly, he  able to cut the zip tie with the razor thin blade. He brought his hands in front of him, rubbing at the raw skin. He bent down to do the same to his ankles and realized they hadn’t even bothered. Ugh, this wasn’t even remotely near the challenge he was hoping it would be.

Tony smirked and stood up, taking the time to stretch leisurely. He reached for the door handle; it wasn’t even locked.

Amateurs.

Grace urging him forward, he slipped out into the hall.

**Catwalk above you,** Grace pointed out. **Perfect advantage. Use the walls as leverage. Damn, this place is awful. We should submit a Yelp review.**

“Point five out of ten stars,” Tony whispered aloud to himself as he jumped up the nearest wall and managed to grab the cat walk first try. He pulled himself up and looked for a way to get to the loading docks.“No service, security sucks. Barren with little furniture. Terrible lighting.”

Tony hopped up into the rafters and began to climb over the main loading dock. There was a significant lack of people, but it took him only a moment to find them. Clustered together in a little group by what Tony figured was another office, they argued and fought. He counted seven men, heavily armed.

_**This is almost too easy**_ , he and Grace thought in tandem. He began to backtrack a little to the catwalk, all the while continuing to write his review.

“Electricity sketchy at best.” He glared pointedly at a flickering light on the far side of the ceiling. “Employees are idiots, caught them arguing about...” he paused, narrowing his eyes. Resuming his journey he said, “The fine art of making microwaveable mac and cheese. Please, everyone knows you dump out the water and add milk before putting in the cheese powder.”He passed the room he had been held captive in and opened the next door. Supply closet. Hell yeah.

“All in all, would not recommend,” was the final statement to his report, and he got to work.

Tony gathered all of the chemicals he would need. He next found a respiratory mask and began mixing them together. Taking some of the toilet paper, he dipped it in another solution. Lastly, he collected the rest of his materials and began to assemble his small gas canisters and explosives.

Returning to the catwalk, Tony jumped into the rafters with the confidence of a feline. _Ha, catwalk, get it?_ He strode along the beam to the group not worried about being seen and stopped right above them.

“Hello? Room service?”

All seven men snapped their heads up to look at him. Tony snorted. After a hilariously long pause, they raised their weapons.

“Get down from there,” one called to him. “How did you even get out of that room?”

“Really, you’d think that having a hostage would at least warrant a checkup,” Tony snarked, tossing one of his homemade bombs in the air. “Why am I here?”

Another man, this one with a frankly terrifying unibrow, sneered. “Boss wanted some easy money. We’re going to send a ransom to Howard Stark.” A third elbowed him in the ribs and cut off whatever he was going to say next. Unibrow amended with, “Now get down from there.”

Tony pouted. “But what if I like it up here? Air’s fresher, temperatures cooler, and quite honestly the view is great.” He caught one of them muttering an unsettled ‘weird kid’ and grinned. “Speaking of, where are we?”

“Not going to answer that, kid,” the first man replied. “Let’s just get down from the roof and have a nice talk. That’s all we want. Look, we even have...” he spun around, frantically searching for something. “Coffee! We even have coffee and we’ll give some to you if you get down right now.”

Tony perked up. “What kind?”

“Huh?” The man asked.

Rolling his eyes, Tony reiterated. “What kind of coffee?”

“Oh, um, Starbucks,” probably the beefiest man of the group said.

“Ew, no,” Tony said wrinkling his nose. “That shit’s burnt. Well, in that case, nice meeting you. Gotta blast.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Beefy yelled, and Tony chucked the tear gas at the group. He took off running across the beams amidst the pained shouts of the men as they got concentrated chemicals to the face. Gunfire began to resound through the area. Tony was about eighty percent positive they wouldn’t hit him though. They were firing blindly.

He reached the far wall, grabbed onto one of the exposed pipes, slid down like a fireman, and took off across the warehouse floor. He paused near the middle, contemplating, then changed his trajectory. Reaching one of the rusted control panels for the loading docks, he tore it open, ripping out all of the old wiring and circuit boards. He planted his explosives inside, adjusting them to give him a little longer to run.

“There he is!” Someone yelled. Tony jerked up and felt hands grabbing onto his shoulders. Falling into years of training, he spun around and brought his elbow down on a forearm. A loud crack was his reward, and he spun out with a kick. The man never saw it coming and fell to the ground clutching his gut.

“Holy shit,” the one Tony assumed was the probably the leader murmured. He turned to the others. “Don’t just stand there, get him!”

“As fun as this is, I really do have to go,” Tony said casually, even as he placed his legs apart in a fighting stance. He didn’t wait for them to make the first move. Promptly, he took off running and leaped. Wrapping his thighs around the neck of one man, he used his momentum to unbalance him and throw him into another.

**Watch out for the guns** , Grace warned him, although not too urgently. More of an advanced courtesy than anything.

_Yeah, I got it,_ Tony replied. He slid between the legs of his fourth victim and punched him in the groin. The man collapsed in a pained heap. Three more.

**And little time,** Grace reminded him. **Don’t forget about the bomb.**

_Well aren’t you just little miss optimist this morning?_

Tony slid to a stop, finally dropping his knife back into his hand. Flipping the point over, he flung his wrist with perfect accuracy. The blade sprouted from his target’s forehead. Tony was on top of him in a second, yanking the knife out of the man’s skull and adjusting his fingers on the grip. He turned to the last two men, who were ashen-faced and pale. Their fingers were tight on the triggers of their guns. Tony rolled his eyes. Before either of them could react and get trigger happy, he threw two small disks at them. His aim struck true and the men fell to the ground twitching with electric shocks.

“Who-who are you?” One of the men groaned.

Tony turned to go and stopped right at the exit.

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? No one ever pays attention to a fox until it’s too late.” He bared his teeth. “It’s been fun,” he threw over his shoulder to the wide-eyed men. “Ciao ciao.”

He leapt out of the building, feet hitting the earth at a run. Upon getting his bearings, he realized he was in a thick grove of trees. The woods right outside the local Walmart if he wasn’t mistaken, which he wasn’t. Tony Stark had an excellent sense of direction, and besides, Aunt Peggy had made him memorize a map of this and any surrounding areas before the gala.

Groaning internally, Tony prowled his way through the shadows of the branches. Somewhere nearby he heard a dog bark at him. At least he was headed in the right direction.

He began humming merrily. A loud boom resounded from behind him, the light illuminating the path ahead of him and the gentle heat wave cascading over his back. Tony noticed that the knife still clenched in his hand was covered in gore. Scandalized by his dishonorable and horrible behavior, he wiped the blade on the grass at his feet. That would have to do for now.

He continued at a light jog to warm up. Upon reaching the Walmart, he remained in the tree line just out of sight. Tony sped up to a brisk mission pace keeping parallel to the main road. He recalled Uncle Nicky telling him about a SSR, now SHIELD, headquarters not too far from his location. Once again, he picked up the pace until he was at a full lope. Trees passed by him in a blur, and Tony found himself enjoying the lovely sparkling the grass gave off as the sky began to lighten. The dew droplets even attached themselves to his knife, which accented the blood beautifully.

The Shield building was nothing too impressive. It was a simple office building disguised as a cleaning service. He double checked that he hadn’t accidentally gotten bodily fluids on his suit, and tucked his knife back away into its holster. A quick tousle of his hair and he was back to being the immaculate Stark heir, if not a little bit sweaty.

Tony strolled in like he owned the place, which in hindsight was probably very confusing to see a seven-year-old do. He approached the desk with ease and told the lady, “I am here to see Nick Fury.”

The lady, quite impressively for a civilian, feigned ignorance.

“I’m sorry, but who? I believe you have the wrong address. Is there someone you need me to call for you sweetie?”

Tony had already tuned her out, though, turning his attention to the young agent behind him. He couldn’t have been older than twenty. Man and boy studied each other intently.

“You must be Agent Coulson,” Tony broke the silence, and reached his hand out. Coulson shook it, a little disturbed at Tony’s wide grin.

“Yes, I am, and you are?”

“That would be my godson,” Uncle Nicky said, slipping grandly into the room. “Who is a little shit and will probably be dead in a ditch by tomorrow.” His voice took on a dangerous edge towards the end of his threat, and Agent took a small step back.

Tony remained unperturbed. “Hiya Uncle Nicky,” he said cheerfully, widening his grin.

“Not gonna work, you little fucker,” his godfather declared with a scowl, eyes boring into Tony’s.

“Damn it,” Tony muttered, dropping his act. He and Nicky stared at each other, both daring the other to make the first move.

“Um,” Agent Coulson interrupted confused, swiping his hand to break both of their gazes. “Maybe we should move this out of the front shop? You know, where civilians will see a grown ass man try to take down a child.” Both drew themselves back like they hadn’t seemed to be about to lunge at each other’s throats only moments before.

“C’mon,” Uncle Nicky jerked his head at the ‘hidden’ door to the actual Shield offices. Tony followed him somewhat mournfully, the way a sentenced man would approach his hanging.

“You okay kid?” Coulson asked, sidling up to him. “You look like you’re headed to pick out your headstone. Speaking of, I never got your name.”

“Anthony,” Tony said, completely ignoring the first question. “But you can call me Tony.”

“Oh,” Couslon replied, face lighting up in recognition. “You must be Stark’s kid.” Tony didn’t deign to respond and instead grit his teeth. After a moment, he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Carbonell, actually. I’m Agent Carbonell’s son.”

Coulson shot him a weird look, but nodded in ascent. “Of course, my bad.”

They went further into the belly of the beast. Agents and employees scuttled around, shooting the trio a few weird looks but otherwise keeping to their own busy tasks. Uncle Nicky was leading them to a set of offices, Tony soon discovered, and he came back to himself a moment too late.

“ _Antonio Edward Carbonell!_ ” Came a shriek from one of the far halls.

**Incoming angry mother** , Grace warned him, as if it wasn’t obvious.

_Yeah, I got that_. Tony panicked for a moment and spun around to quickly walk away but Uncle Nicky grabbed the back of his suit.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said menacingly. “You little asshole, you’re getting what coming for you.”

Mamma came prowling around the corner, lethal and scary as always, her gaze focused on Tony.

“ _Mamma_ ,” Tony tried, spreading his hands in a showman’s gesture. “ _Come stai?_ ”[How are you?] At least she didn’t have the sandal out. Yet.

“ _Non sei_ _‘Come stai’ me. Dove eri_?” [Don’t you ‘How are you’ me. Where were you?]

“ _Em, giuro che stavo per dirti. Mi sono solo distratto. Erano degli idioti, mamma. Non mi hanno nemmeno controllato per le armi. E poi ho fatto una cosa, e abbiamo combattuto-_ “ [Um, I swear I was going to tell you. I just got distracted. They were idiots, mom. They didn’t even check me for weapons. And then I made a thing, and we fought-]

Mamma cut him off with a long-suffering sigh, and Tony waited for her to collect herself. He noticed the other agents staring at them with either mild amusement for those who apparently didn’t understand Italian, or invested horror for those who apparently did.

“Okay,” Mamma started in English, which was quite telling of how truly angry she was. She wasn’t ripping him a new one in Italian though, so he counted it as a win. “This is what is going to happen.” Tony saw several personnel lean forward in anticipation of her next words. “You are going to come home with me, and tell me everything, and I will decide whether to skin you alive or let your Aunt Peggy deal with you.”

Tony gulped, but stupidly put on a brave face. “No. I want to stay here and see all of Shield’s new space.”

**You idiot** , Grace hissed.

There was collective sharp inhale around the the room. Mamma turned back to him slowly.

“What did you say?”

Tony stiffened. He quickly backtracked. “I said of course. You’re beautiful and I’d love to see Aunt Peggy’s face.”

“That’s what I thought.” She looked around at all of the agents, some of whom were trying to hold back laughter. “What are you all gawking at, get back to work!”

They scrambled to obey the Black Widow and pretended to look busy. Despite himself, Tony smirked. It quickly fell from his face when Mamma returned her attention back to him.

“Coulson,” she barked. The agent snapped to attention. “Take Antonio to the car. I will be right out. Tonio, if I hear you caused any trouble not even Nick will save you.” Tony nodded and followed Coulson out. Behind him he heard Mamma very explicitly and graphically threatening the other Shield agents in the room, making sure they understood exactly what would happen to them if they ever said anything even hinting that she had a kid. He began skipping, a dagger finding it’s way into his hand once again. He swung his arms wildly as each stride ate up the distance ahead of him.

“Don’t stab yourself,” Agent called out to him, but otherwise seemed to think that Tony could handle himself with a knife. “What kind of blade is that anyway? I’ve never seen one like it before.”

“That’s ‘cause I made it,” Tony said, stopping to wait for Coulson to catch up. Not that it mattered, they were just outside of the garage, if one could call it that, anyway. “Watch this.” He drew the dagger back and swung it at the wall, as if he was going to throw it. The grip never left his hand though, and the blade extended in the blink of an eye.

“You made that?” Coulson asked dubiously, although he was staring at it as if trying to figure out how it worked.

“Yep,” Tony said, popping the ‘p’. The gleaming metal retraced into itself with a snap. “Built it about a year and a half ago. I have a new one, though, with a faster reaction time and stronger material. I forgot to swap it out for this one before we left so I had to make do.” He watched Agent physically hold himself back from reaching for the weapon. He took pity on the man. “Do you want this one?”

Coulson balked. “What?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I just told you I already have others. Do you want this one?”

“I-sure,” Coulson stammered, holding his hand out. Tony slapped it into his palm.

“Right, so, I gotta go convince my godparents not to kill me,” he said, allowing the humid air from the garage to slip into the hall and sliding into the backseat of the car waiting for him just on the other side of the doorway. “See you around, Agent.”

******

Phil passed Carbonell on his way to Fury’s office. She nodded at him, and after a moments hesitation, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

“You-you’re not really going to hurt Tony, are you?”

Carbonell’s face didn’t betray a single emotion, but she was silent for so long that Phil was worried his had pissed off the Black Widow. Finally, though, she just sighed.

“No, I’m not, and neither will Agents Carter-Sousa or the Jarvis’s.” Her eyes drooped a bit, which was probably the equivalent of a full blown meltdown for her. “Look, Coulson, I’ve been watching you. Nick seems to think you’re reliable, and I’m not inclined to disagree. You don’t seem like the type of interfere unless there’s no other options.”

Phil pursed his lips and ticked his head at her. “I do try, Miss.”

“You’ve also already seemed to make an impression on Antonio.”

“I’m not really sure-“ he rebuked, but she interrupted him.

“If he didn’t trust you, he wouldn’t have given you one of his inventions.” She gestured to the knife in his hand. He too looked at it, astounded. “Tonio had always had good instincts when it comes to people and I have a feeling you are going to be seeing each other a lot soon, which is why I will tell you this once. Never mention Howard.”

Phil blinked. “Yes ma’am.”

“That said, if I find out you’ve done anything to him, anything at all, I will string you up by your guts and decorate my office with your intestines. Capiche?”

“Yes ma’am,” Phil gulped.

“Good. I will be seeing you around, Agent Coulson.”

She strolled off, heels clicking menacingly against the floor. Phil felt chills dance down his spine, but shook it off and continued on his path.

Fury looked up from where he was bent over paperwork when he entered. “Agent Coulson.”

“Assistant Director Fury,” Phil’s returned. “If I may ask, how did you meet Agent Carbonell?”

Fury’s pen stopped mid-air. “Get over here and help me with this shit.”

Phil gave him a bland smile and pulled up a chair. “Don’t these require your personal signature?”

With a snort, Fury pushed a stack towards him. “Like hell you haven’t forged it before.”

Phil just tightened his smile a bit more and got started. “Carbonell, sir?”

“Carter,” Fury supplied. “Or rather, Sousa. He found me after I tried to join the SSR and was rejected. Took me under his wing, introduced me to his wife, Carter. I made a lot of connections as a black man in the 60’s. Was looked over a fuck ton. I met Stark through Carter after he blew up his house and needed a place to stay. Carbonell came from him, and they announced they were getting married almost right away. I’ll admit, I had thought there was something off about her, but I thought she was a gold digger or some shit like that. Imagine my surprise when I found out she was a Widow. The Widow, the one who left the Red Room and retired. She joined our little tactical group and not long after had my godson Antonio. Howard, he was a dick, is a dick. He left a few weeks before Maria was due and didn’t come back for almost four months. Let’s just say that set the precedence, and he hasn’t turned out to be a good father.” Phil remembered Carbonell’s warning and kept silent. He was getting a trickling of what Howard Stark might be like, and he wasn’t really liking where the current was headed.

“When Tony came in,” he started slowly. “You didn’t seem surprised. Why was that?”

“The shit gets kidnapped all the time,” Fury said gruffly. Phil tried to keep his startled and almost angry look from Fury, but judging by the glare he got in return he failed. The other man rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean it like that. We’ve been training him since he was two to fight off attackers and recognize unwanted attention and all that crap. He purposefully allows himself to be captured, the asshole.”

“Why?” Phil whisper-asked, unbelieving.

Fury shrugged. “Why does a Stark do anything? He gets a kick out of it. It’s like a drug for him.”

“He’s not worried about getting hurt?”

“Coulson, when I say Stark’s a dick, I mean he’s a real dick. There ain’t nothing even a fucking terrorist organization could do to Tonio that would be comparable to the torture Stark has put his son through, let alone a measly kidnapper.”

“But he seems so happy in the press,” Phil said quietly, recalling the article from about a year ago where Tony had built a car engine.

“I’m telling you, if this kid doesn’t want you to know something, you will never find out,” Fury said, albeit not harshly. “Look, this is a whole crapshoot, I recommend not thinking about it too much.”

They devolved into silence once more, but there was still something bothering Phil. “Why don’t they just leave?”

“Excuse me?”

“If Stark’s such a dick. Why don’t Carbonell and Tony just leave? She has a job here, obviously has acquaintances outside of Stark Industries because Black Widow, so why? Why do they choose to stay?”

Fury stayed quiet for a few minutes, and Phil sensed that he overstepped some unwritten line in the sand of the spy agency’s beach and was barely edging around the buried land mines. He didn’t have any bomb defusing tech on him, so he quickly dropped his exploration.

To his surprise, Fury answered him. “As much of an asshole as Stark is, he’s not an idiot. In fact, he’s a genius; he knows how to get information and how to use it. He could probably find anyone in the world within a month if he really wanted to. There is also no doubt in my mind that he hasn’t somehow placed trackers somewhere in his wife and kid. Probably Carter and I as well.”

Phil frowned. Something was just not adding up. “What kind of information could he have that’s so serious. Surely not the Widow stuff, I mean, I guess that would cause some problem, but I think most people wouldn’t care after about a week.”

Fury seemed pained, which was probably the most emotion Phil had ever seen from him. “I can’t tell you that right now, but I can tell you that if you stick around, you’ll find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought my baby Phil Coulson wouldn’t make an appearance? You were wrong!
> 
> The Italian should be right, but is probably wrong.
> 
> Also, thank you for all the support this is getting! Even though I might not reply, I read every single one of your comments. I know where I want this story to end and a general idea of how to get there, but if there is something you guys want to see, I can try to fit it in :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jarvis and Ana. Tony and Howard. Tony and Pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to all you lovely readers who have been so encouraging of this story. I had some personal issues come up within the last six months or so and haven‘t had the time/energy to write. That being said, I have had this chapter as a work in progress for a while, but even now I‘m not really satisfied with it. However, ya‘ll have been so supportive and I figured you deserve a new chapter. Thanks to all of you who left comments, even if I didn‘t reply I did read every single one of them.  
> Be warned: Much angst up ahead.

Even though Tony was used to tragedy (he was oftentimes the cause of it after all), it was still a shock when it targeted him.

He was in the kitchen with Aunt Ana, the both of them working on a pasta and bolognese sauce for supper. Tony was straining the dough and keeping an eye on the bubbling pot to make sure it wouldn’t boil out of control, and Ana was slicing the tomatoes. She had dumped them in a bowl and turn around to grab the towel, when she suddenly keeled over.

“Ana!” Tony shouted, rushing to her side. She clutched at her stomach, eyes watering in pain. “Ana! Jarvis! Come quick! It’s Ana!”

Footsteps echoed down the corridor and Jarvis came speeding into view. “Ana!” He slid down beside her, hands fretting. “Tonio, call an ambulance.”

“Yessir,” Tony agreed immediately. He rushed out into the hallway to the old rotary phone Jarvis insisted on keeping around for sentiment. Upon picking up the phone, the moments began to blur by. He remembered talking to an operator, but not about what, he recalled the medics strapping Ana to a gurney, but not the ambulance, and most of all, he could remember with perfect clarity the look of lost devastation on Jarvis’ face when they rushed her into emergency surgery.

They were in the waiting room for hours, Jarvis barely holding himself together and Tony dry-eyed and straight-backed silently offering all of the comfort a seven-and-a-half year old could. Mamma, Uncle Nicky, and Aunt Peggy came in at some point int time, but Tonio only vaguely noticed.

After what seemed like years, the doctor finally came into the room. His face was grim.

“We did an abdominal scan and surgery. We uncovered a tumor, many actually. And unfortunately a biopsy did find them to be cancerous. I’m very sorry, but she doesn’t have long.”

“How didn’t we notice?” Jarvis asked, voice cracking and eyes red-rimmed.

“It appears that she has already had significant trauma to the lower torso region,” the doctor explained. “That may be what caused the cancer, and why she never brought attention to it. You should have been warned that she would experience pain in that area from time to time, which might contribute why she thought that nothing was wrong.”

Jarvis let out a sob. Aunt Peggy reached over Tony and placed her hand on Jarvis’ shoulder.

“How long?” Uncle Nicky asked.

“It could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks,” the doctor said. “It all depends on the patient.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “I’m not one to give false hope, though. I will tell you that I predict around six days.”

Peggy reached up and bit her knuckles, tears gently falling down her cheeks. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“I’m afraid not,” and the doctor really did look remorseful. “She can stay here where we can monitor her condition, but I recommend taking her home and making her last days as comfortable as possible. I will give you a prescription for pain meds to help her manage, but I can’t do much else.”

Uncle Nicky nodded. “Thank you.”

The doctor looked them over solemnly. “My regrets.” Then he turned around and disappeared behind a pair of swinging doors.

*****

They did end up taking Ana back home, which Tony almost wished they hadn’t. She looked so pale and fragile against the big puffy duvet that laid on her and Jarvis’ bed. When she was in the hospital, at least he could pretend it was all a bad dream. Once home, however, reality set in.

The time seemed to go by so fast and so slow at the same time. To fill the morbid silence that always seemed to coat the very atoms of the air, Mamma and Aunt Peggy told a lot of stories, with Jarvis intervening at times in the ones he was present for. Ana would sit up at her spot in bed, Tony cross legged at her feet, and Peggy and Mamma on the small sofa beneath the large window. When they weren’t busy, Uncle Nicky and Jarvis took the seats across from the bed, mostly surveying their family in all but blood.

From Mamma, Tony learned about the Red Room and Hydra, and what it meant to be a Black Widow. He didn’t like those stories as much as the ones she told about Gracelings though. Katsa, his predecessor, gave him hope, the tales about her helping him to understand more about himself. Grace was an ever present influence in his mind, bringing him ever so slightly out of his grief with calming feelings and melancholy love. He knew without it, he would have broken down by now.

From Aunt Peggy, Tony learned about the Howling Commandos and their adventures. He discovered that Captain America, although vitally important, was only a small part in their stories. He learned of Bucky Barnes, a ladies man, who was always there to lend support to whoever needed. Of Dum-Dum Dugan, who was the very epitome of masculinity, but never disrespected Peggy nor any of her female coworkers.Of Happy Sam Sawyer, a black man in a white man’s world. Of Jacques Denier, the Frenchmen who couldn’t resist blowing shit up and causing chaos. Of Pinky Pinkerton, Peggy’s fellow Englishman with none of her class. Of Junior Juniper, the youngest of the group who’s mouth got him into a lot of trouble. And finally of one Nicholas Fury, who took over right after the war ended and Dugan wanted a break.

“Do you want to hear a secret, Ducky?” Aunt Peggy asked him.

“Yeah,” Tony breathed, uncaring that was acting like a child.

His godmother leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Captain America was a great man, but he would have never survived without a team backing him up.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “That’s not what Sir says-“

“Howard is an idiot who wasn’t anywhere near the front lines for the majority of the war,” she said coolly. “Speaking of Howard being an idiot, has he told you of the time when his own organization starting hunting him on the charges of being a terrorist?”

“No,” Tony ventured, trying to hid his interest.

“Well I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis can help with this story too, don’t you agree Mrs. Jarvis.”

“Why yes I do, Mrs. Carter-Sousa,” Ana replied with a proper air. The two woman stared at each other regally, then broke down in giggles. Jarvis took that moment to come in with a tea tray in his hands.

He scanned the room cautiously. “Is everything all right?”

Both ladies looked up at him and in tandem said, “Yes, Mr. Jarvis.”

The butler seemed confused. “Are you quite sure?”

“Quite sure, Mr. Jarvis,” they recited again, and Tony hid his laughter behind his hand at Jarvis’ nervous face.

The happy times didn’t last very long, no matter how much Tony tried to preserve them.

Aunt Ana, a second mother who never said anything unkind and made peach cobbler and ice cream on the days when anyone was feeling down, died on a Friday morning. Everyone was present, save Sir, as Ana’s soul visibly left her body, the light draining out of her eyes slowly. Even with her weak body shutting down, she still had the strength to smile.

As Uncle Danny pulled up the blanket to cover her once beautiful smile, Tony remembered her warm and gentle hands cleaning him up after a hard day or a meeting with Sir. Her gentle laugh whenever he got frustrated as she tried to teach him to knit or sew. The taste of her food after she taught him how to cook yet another dish. The smell of her perfume, fruity and sweet, yet flowery and stern all at the same time. Her face, the laugh lines and crows feet, the playful grin, and the eyes that only ever held love and devotion, an unburdened and innocent light in a world that didn’t deserved them.

Ana Jarvis, a kind mother, a caring sister, a loving wife, died smiling on a cold and miserable Friday morning.

********

Uncle Jarvis, the father to Tony in all the ways that mattered and helped him without complaint or hesitation, chased his wife into death the following Tuesday. He didn’t go as peacefully as Ana, clutching his heart and gasping for air, but he welcomed it all the same.

All Tony could think about was his infinite patience, especially when teaching Tony something new. His dry sense of humor, hidden by his polite British demeanor. His reassurances after Sir felt the need to stress-relieve, meaning more to Tony than he could ever show. His stories from before Tony was born, when Mamma, Peggy, Nicky would go on missions together or the tales of his adventures right after the war. His obsession with organization, always present when planning Tony’s latest mission, alongside heavy eyes that held more sad wisdom and knowledge of devastation than one man should possess. Most of all, Tony’s memories relived the affection, the fondness, the unbridled love that was always for some reason directed towards an undeserving child.

Edwin Jarvis, a compassionate father, a honest brother, a devoted husband, died on a Tuesday of a broken heart.

******

Immediately after the funeral (small, dreary, only Tony, Mamma, Peggy and Nicky), Tony was sent on a mission. A simple in-and-out, no witnesses but preferably not collateral damage either. Mamma had begged and fought Sir, but both she and Tony were emotionally and physically exhausted, and finally when Sir threatened to cage them both Tony agreed to do the short deed.

He suited up simply with less than a dozen knives on his person, and grabbed the nearest new gun he had built to be quiet and light. Sir grumbled and complained about his target on the entire car ride there, but when Tony didn’t reply except to glare from the backseat, he eventually drifted into silence, his eyes resolutely on the road in front of them.

When they pulled up just outside the boundary lines of the giant mansion’s property, Sir only slowed down enough for Tony to get out of the car before making his way to their rendezvous point. Tony doesn’t find his usual elation of the hunt as he stalks forward, only deep dread and a feeling of something being wrong. It was easy enough to jump the fence, and the house was practically swimming in trees. Tony climbed one and watched as the target went through the house, double checking everything was off and locked, and Tony took aim. He was just about to pull the trigger, whenthe man’s head snapped up as if he heard something, and he goes into one of the rooms off of the hall.

The light of the room turned on revealing a small child’s bedroom, a girl‘s to be exact. She herself is curled up in her bed, blankets draped around her like a nest. Even from this distance Tony could tell she was shaking harshly. He lowered his gun in the presence of a witness.

The two talk a little before the father embraced his daughter, and Tony knew at that moment he couldn’t kill them. All he could see was Jarvis, his loving embrace when helping Tony to clean up his wounds, and Tony just…couldn’t. He couldn’t let this girl suffer what he was suffering, he couldn’t leave the wife widowed to potentially suffer a fate like Jarvis, he couldn’t go through with it.

Tony knew he was in trouble, but it was worth it, and for once Grace agreed with him.

 

 

“What was that about boy?” Sir snarled, pushing Tony into his office harshly.

“I couldn’t do it,” Tony murmured.

“Excuse me?” Sir asked threateningly, eyes darkening with rage.

“I couldn’t do it,” Tony repeated, backing up.

“And why the fuck not?” Sir spit, a growl making itself known at the last word.

**Shut up** , Grace said, panicking a bit because this was not a good method for survival. **Shut up, walk away, beg for forgiveness, just do not antagonize him further.**

“Because he reminded me of Jarvis.”

No!

Sir drew his hand back and smacked it across Tony’s face. His head jerked to the side with the force of the blow, but he stood his ground.

“Jarvis?” Sir asked, voice pitched low. “You didn’t take out your target because he reminded you of your butler?”

“Yes sir,” Tony murmured, and Sir nearly howled in his rage. As it is, he grabbed Tony’s forearm tight enough to bruise and dragged him down to the lab. Tony passively let him despite Grace’s demands because he deserved this. He’s failed his mission.

His face beet red, Sir positioned Tony’s arm in one of the pressing machines and closed the contraption. Hard. Tony couldn’t help the noise that escaped him and bit his tongue trying to suppress any more.

“Stupid.” Sir barked, swinging his hand across Tony’s face. The ring on his finger cuts into Tony’s cheek, drawing blood. “Worthless. Idiot. Mistake.” With each word, Sir rains down a beating on a different part of Tony’s body. Tony begins to feel himself dissociate, Grace distracting him with equations and probabilities as each blow hits its mark.

It is for this reason Tony doesn’t even flinch when Sir brings down the hammer across his skull.

******

“Kiddo, you gotta wake up.”

Tony begrudgingly opened his eyes, squinting in the bright lights of the medical room. His movements were slow and sluggish as Grace informed him of the painkillers in his system.He couldn’t see much, but he made out the familiar large shape of one of his favorite people.

“Hey, Uncle Nicky,” Tony tried to greet, but it came out as more of a croak.

Luckily, Nicky was as attuned to his nephew as always, and brought a cup of water for Tony to drink. Despite wanting to drain the glass, the Graceling controlled himself and only sipped small amounts, giving a few seconds between each one.

“Mamma’s not happy, is she?”

Uncle Nicky sighed, sitting down next to him on the bed. “No, no she’s not.” Tony stared down at his hands, looking curiously and a bit ashamed at his casted arm. “I kicked her out a while ago because she’s been by your bedside for the past three days.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, guilt a heavy and unwelcome pit in his stomach.

“She’s not mad at you kiddo, just...your situation. She hates that she can’t take her eyes off of you without expecting another visit to the medbay or hospital-which is not your fault, because despite everything, your intellect, your skills, and your gifts alike, you are a child. And a child should be able to walk around their own house without the fear of their father lurking around every corner and weighing in on their every action. She just lost Ana and Jarvis, two members of her family. She can’t lose her son too.” Tony simply nodded, because how does one respond to that?

One look at Nicky proved that he understood, because his Uncle opened his arms and let Tony crawl into his lap. He unconsciously leaned as far into his Uncle’s touch as he could. Uncle Nicky passed him his contacts and he wordlessly put them in, for once welcoming the well worn daily habit.

“Who found me?”

“She did. Skull bashed in, arm dislocated and broken, several contusions across several areas.”

Sullenly poking at his cast, Tony remained as still as possible as he let the information sink it, finding comfort in the way the dark trench coat of his Uncle’s practically covered him up.

“Don’t do that,” Uncle Nicky said half heartedly, breaking the relaxing silence they had settled into. He gently took Tony’s hands in his own, holding them apart to keep him from picking at the hard plaster on his arm. He released them just as quickly, and Tony went right back at it again. “Stop doing that.”

“It’s so itchy,” Tony complained, scratching at the edge and digging his fingers as far under the wrapping as they would go.

Uncle Nicky adopted a pained look on his face. “I get that it sucks, but the less you try to undermine it the sooner it can come off.” Once again he separated Tony hands, this time a little more stubborn in his grip. “Quit messing with it.” Tony wiggled experimentally, testing Nicky’s hold and finding that if he really wanted to, he could break it. It’s that discovery that kept him from actually doing so, however. Instead he kept squirming, knowing how much Nicky disliked it.

A throat clearing from the doorway caused them both to freeze.

“Hi Agent!” Tony chirped with a loopy smile once he registered it was Coulson. Agent grinned back at him kindly.

“Hey kid, got a little banged up?”

“Yep!” Uncle Nicky released his arms as he gestured to his head, still wrapped in bandages. “Why are you here?”

“Just checking in,” Agent said with a conspiring wink. “And to convince Fury to come help with the young agents.”

Nicky glared at him. “How much did you see?”

“Enough,” he answered, smirking. He looked to Tony. “I’ve heard you like to watch? Maybe you can come by when you recover.”

“Yeah,” Tony accepted. “C’mon Uncle Nicky. I wanna laugh at, er I mean, see the baby agents.”

“Kid, you just got out of a coma,” Nick argued. “And you haven’t recovered from severe head trauma yet. He didn’t mean now.”

“I know,” Tony replied. “But I’m bored. I won’t do anything, just watch.”

“Tonio, no,” he tried.

“Tonio, yes,” Tony mocked. “Besides, I have a feeling you’ll be wanting this back.” He holds up his Uncle’s favorite knife, gripping it possessively.

“How did you-“ Nick groaned. “Fine. But if Maria tries to kill us, just know I’m throwing you at her first.”

“If you somehow manage to catch me, I deserve it,” Tony answered. He attempted to get out of Nicky’s embrace, but a wave of vertigo washed over him. To his immense luck, Uncle Nicky managed to grab him around the waist him before he tumbled to the floor. He held him still for what seemed like forever, until the nausea and dizziness passed.

“On second thought, you are staying here.”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” Mamma interrupted as she slipped into the room. Coulson moved aside and looked at the three with a calculating eye.

“I’ll send you the footage later,” he told Tony and left.

Mamma watched him go and then turned her cool gaze on her son.

“I wont say I’m happy about what you did,” she began, and he flinched. “But I understand it. I shouldn’t have left you alone in that state, and that’s my fault. Sometimes, for all your intelligence, I forget you are a child. My child, whom I should at least be with after a loved one dies.” In a rare fit of emotion, her voice cracked on the last word. She rancorously pinched her lips together, a tell of her resentment that Tony hadn’t seen in a long time. “ _Odio mio_ , I’m a terrible mother.” {My god.}

“Maria,” Uncle Nicky reproved.

“No, Nick,” she spun on him. “I can’t even keep my son safe from my husband. Our butler was a better dad to my child than his own father. I had to employ my boss to teach my baby self defense at the age of two after he was kidnapped because his father is an abusive alcoholic who couldn’t care less and his mother is never around when she’s supposed to be to protect him from these things!”

“ _Mamma, ascoltami,” Tony whispered. “Non avrei dovuto urlare a Howard. Avrei dovuto prendere il colpo. Lo so meglio. Non è colpa tua._ ” He, very slowly this time, crawled back over to the head of the bed and patted the pillow in a silent beckoning. Mamma paused for the shortest second, hesitating, then sat down beside him. He moved a little further down, burying his face in her side. {Mamma listen to me. I should not have yelled at Howard. I should have taken the shot. I know better. It’s not your fault.}

Taking the cue for what it was, Mamma began running her hands through his curly hair, lightly scratching his scalp and avoiding the parts covered in thick white gauze. Tony relaxed surrounded by the scent of her perfume, nearly missing it when Uncle Nicky got up and left them alone.

“ _Ti amo, Mamma_ ,” Tony whispered, just on the verge of sleep as the drugs began to take him over again. {Love you, Mamma.}

“ _Anche io, cucciolo_ ,” Mamma whispered back. “ _Anche io ti amo_.” {I love you too, puppy. I love you too.}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify in case I have failed in my duties as a writer:  
> Are Maria‘s parenting skills questionable? Yes, very much so. She was raised to be emotionless and uncaring, which is how I imagine her childhood had been.  
> Does that mean she can‘t love Tony? No, she would give the world up for him, she just doesn‘t always know how to go about doing so.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Maria and Mutants and Coulson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmm i‘m not sure about this chapter but here it is anyway I needed it to advance the plot (delicious, finally some good fucking plot)
> 
> I didn‘t fact check my technologies too much either, but this is a world with Howard and Tony Stark, so it‘s bound to be a bit more tech-savvy.

In the months following, Tony started hanging out more at Shield, especially when Aunt Peggy and Uncle Danny went back to England as Mamma wanted to keep him away from Sir as much as she could. Agent was cool about it, letting Tony tag along to all the baby agent’s training sessions. There he was Antonio Carbonell, Agent Carbonell’s son. Not many people knew of Mamma’s marriage to Howard, so the only reputation Tony had to live up to was the legacy Mamma was creating for herself. He was cutting his own place out amongst the Shield ranks, however, especially amongst Peggy’s old coworkers when they came in for an out of town training event.

“Hey you!” A tall man with blond hair yelled. Tony cocked his head at him. “Yes you. You can’t be here.”

This got the attention of Peggy who was standing by the sidelines, watching the new recruits try to follow the instructions given to them. “Jack...”

“No, this is a top secret activity,” Jack Thompson replied stubbornly. “I don’t need kids getting in the way.”

Aunt Pegs rolled her eyes. “He’s fine, he’s gone through all of the training programs at least twice.”

“Really?” Thompson’s gaze turned to contemplating. He ordered, “Come here, kid.”

Tony pushed his way to the front of the junior agents, who all wore expressions of confusion. They had seen him around, watching this class and that, but he never participated in any of the activities. He could tell that they were doing their best to keep their curiosity at bay.

Thompson got down on one knee. “What’s your name, kid.”

“Anthony,” he answered.

“Alright Anthony, let’s see how much you’ve learned.”

“Jack, that’s really not such a good idea,” Peggy warned.

“Nonsense, Marge, I’ll go easy on him.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she sighed. Opening her pager, she sent off a brief message, probably to Mamma and Uncle Nicky.

“It’ll be fine,” Thompson waved her off. He led Tony to the back of the room, where the floor was covered with training mats. “How old are you, Anthony? Six?”

“Eight,” Tony said, a bit harsher than necessary. He knew he was small for his age, he didn’t need it rubbed in his face.

“I’m assuming you’ve had some basic training then?”

He had to hold back his eye roll. “Yes.”

“Good. I want you to come at me with everything you’ve got.”

“Jack, I wouldn’t-“

“Relax, Marge, he’ll be fine.”

Tony grinned at the muttered expletives behind his back.

“Ready?” Thompson asked, and Tony nodded. “On three. One. Two. Three.”

In the blink of an eye, Tony dashed forward. He launched off the floor and wrapped his thighs around Thompson neck, swinging himself so he was on the man’s broad shoulders. He used his momentum to fling himself backwards, successfully brining Thompson down with him and flipping him over onto his back.

There was a stunned moment of silence.

“Dammit Pegs, who is this kid?” Thompson said from his spot on the floor.

“That would be my son,” Mamma scolded, walking into the room. “Tony, what have I told you about terrorizing the SSR agents?”

Tony scuffed his shoe on the ground faux-shamefully. “Not to do it ‘cause they’re old and don’t deserve their fragile bones to be broken.”

“I’m not old yet,” Thompson protested, sitting up. “Hey Maria.”

“Oh, it’s Thompson,” Mamma rolled her eyes, fake disdain in her voice. “In that case, go right ahead _Tesoro_.”

“Try it again,” Thompson threatened, holding up a finger at Tony’s smile. “And I won’t feel bad about letting loose on you.” He looked around at the other agents. “Get outta here.” They all rushed happily out of the room, excited to have an early break.

Aunt Peggy gave him an unimpressed shake of the head. “Jack, last time you let loose on me, you ended up on food pickup.”

“That’s not the same,” Thompson protested. “And I’m better now. I survived a bullet wound to the chest.”

“Do you not remember the school?” Peggy asked, mildly horrified. “And that doesn’t necessarily make you stronger.”

“That girl was twelve,” he explained. “And twice his size. There is no way he can be that good.”

Tony huffed. Peggy glanced to him, proud and amused. “He was trained by the best Black Widow to ever come from the Red Room, Nick Fury, Daniel and myself. He’s at least five times better than she would have ever become.”

Thompson stared at him for a few more moments, and Tony gave him his best ‘mentally insane’ smile.

“Why is everyone in my life terrifying?” Tony barely caught the man mutter to himself. “Hey, where’s Sousa? I wanted to ask him out for a drink.”

“Daniel’s currently teaching another class,” Peggy told him. “He will be finished in about twenty minutes.”

Thompson pushed himself to his feet with a groan. “Right. I’m going to go wait on him, see what Sousa could possibly still be teaching all this time. Marge, Maria, nice seeing you. Anthony...great meeting you.”

Tony bounced on the balls of his toes while Peggy and Mamma give their departing remarks.

“ _Tonio_ ,” Mamma called without looking away from the doorway in which Thompson disappeared through. “ _Che cosa hai fatto oggi_?”{What have you done today?}

“I ran this morning,” Tony told her.

“Mhm, and how far?” She turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

Tony hesitated for a moment, ducking his head. “ _Sei chilometri_.” {Six kilometers.}

“Ducky, what’s wrong?” Peggy asked. “You always run at least eight.”

“Nothing.”

“Tonio.”

“It’s nothing really.”

“It’s not nothing, Ducky, please just tell us? Maybe we can help.”

“I can’t go farther,” Tony admitted. “I can’t shut it out, my mind, I can’t forget Ana’s face or Jarv-Jarvis’s pain. I run and I run and no matter how far they always catch up to me. I can’t even do my job correctly without their memory haunting me.”

“Oh _Tesoro_ ,” Mamma said, eyes filling with an emotion Tony couldn’t place. She and Peggy shared a look, and Mamma came to stand in front of him, enveloping him in her embrace. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. If I could-“

“I know, Mamma,” he said. “It’s fine. I can get through it.”

Before they could continue the conversation any further, Coulson entered the room. “Apologies for interrupting, but you have a mission.”

“Who are you addressing, and who ordered it?” Mamma asked, all at once slipping into her Widow persona.

Agent shot them a mild smirk. He’s getting better at hiding his true thoughts, Tony noticed.

“Director Fury,” he revealed.

“He finally got the position?” Aunt Peggy asked, gobsmacked.

“Indeed.” Coulson inclined his head. “Now, this mission actually entails all three of you, Agent Carter-Sousa as home base, Agent Carbonell as our muscle and Tony as our tech.”

“Oh,” Tony said, patting down his pockets in search of his fingerless gloves. “An information run? Don’t you have people for that?”

“Let’s just say this information’s a bit more... important than what the usual team gathers. Wheels up in five, debrief in the air.”

The three agents nod and dashed off to go collect their supplies. Tony collected himself, calmly fitting his uniform over the few concealed weapons he carried and beginning loading up on a few lighter knives as well. He was on the plane before Mamma and Peggy, choosing a seat around one of the tables.

The ladies arrived not thirty seconds later and they’re off. Agent laid out the plan in an orderly fashion, describing the guards and their weaponry with exact precision. The layout of the base was not too tricky to remember, and it was easy enough for Tony and Mamma to improvise.

“All right, Ducky, do be careful,” Peggy told him as he strapped into his parachute. “If all goes well, we shall see each other in an less than two hours.”

“An hour and a half,” Tony promised cheekily, and he and Mamma stepped out into open air, plunging through the cool mist of the morning. Tony loved that feeling, the exhilaration that comes with such a daring experience, the air being pulled out of one’s lungs, the ground rushing up to meet him. All too soon it was over, and the Fox was in play, parachute retracting as he landed soundless on the canopy floor of the woods surrounding the base.

He gave Widow five minutes to clear the way and began his entrance, blades clenched loosely between his fingers. He only ran into two guards clearly on their way to take out the Widow. The Fox incapacitated them both, leaving them unconscious on the floor.

He found the control room without difficulty, whipping the one man stationed at the monitors across the back of the skull. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the disk contains his decrypting code. With the disks help, it took him only about fifteen minutes to hack into the system and another ten to find what he was looking for.

He was just beginning to download what they needed, when Widow slipped into the room.

“We’ve got company,” she warned both him and their home base, placing a finger against the com link Tony designed in her ear. “Do we abort?”

Fox’s speaker crackled to life as well, giving them both the same message. “Negative. Who is it, and how long do you need?”

Widow and Fox exchanged a glance and she inclined her head, running off to see the intruders.

“I need fifteen minutes,” Fox said, watching the progress bar.

“Make it ten,” Agent Coulson ordered him, and Fox began typing faster, skipping over lines of codes and taking shortcuts he usually wouldn’t.

Widow returned within four minutes. “We have a problem. It’s the mutants.”

“The mutants?” Agent Carter-Sousa wondered in bewilderment. “Whatever are they there for?”

“The same thing we are,” Tony told Widow, who had a constant pressure on the microphone of her com so he could talk without removing his hands from the keyboard. “This information. It contains not only details about recent brainwashing techniques but also a few trials on mutants.”

He paused for a second to move over to another monitor, deftly programming some of the doors within the base to lock in between them and the intruders. “That will keep them busy.” A warning sign blared up on screen, announcing the compromise of the doors, one by one. “Or apparently not.”

“Do I engage?” Widow asked. There was a loud boom from not too far away. Neither winces. “I repeat, do I engage.”

“Negative. Do not engage. We-“

“Got it,” Fox announced, pulling the drive from the slot. “Seven minutes.”

“Great,” Agent Carter-Sousa applauded. “Now get out of there.”

“On it,” Fox affirmed, Widow beside him as he rushed towards the opposite exit of the mutants.

“Hey!” A deep voice shouted from behind them, but they ignored it, maneuvering through the halls as quickly as they could. There were heavy footsteps from behind them, but neither looked back.

They burst out of the base, setting off at a dead run towards the rendezvous site. As he crossed the tree line, Fox risked a look at their pursuer. The man was stocky and well built, sliding to a stop about halfway between the base and the trees. Fox thought he saw at least three knives in his hands, but he must have imagined it. No one fought with three blades, it was much better to keep one knife per hand.

Fox shook his head. There would be time to pounder over it later. First, he and Widow had to get the information back to base.

********

“You _what_?” Director Fury demanded.

“Had a run in with the mutants, sir,” Widow replied loftily. “There was no interaction, but they were there.”

The Director looks them over. “At ease, Agents.”

Fox and Widow let some of the tension ease out of their shoulders.

“I don’t understand,” Tony wondered aloud. “Why were we not ordered to engage?”

Mamma sighed, raising her hands up to her face. Carefully she took out her brown contact, revealing the one ocean-colored eye. She turned her gaze on Coulson. “Whatever I say does not leave this room, do you understand?”

Agent simply nodded, dumbstruck by her appearance.

Returning her attention to Tony, she bent down to his level so they could speak face-to-face. “ _Cucciolo_ , do you remember what I said about Gracelings being taboo to the mutants?”

“Yeah, Mamma, but that doesn’t explain-“

“Hush,” she murmured gently. “We’re taboo because of the battle that took place years ago. After Bitterblue’s reign, things went a bit down hill. We had some bad rulers, corrupt ones who drained the people for their own profit. Katsa did all she could, but even those with your Grace must die one day.”

**Not if I can help it** , Grace muttered, and Tony was almost startled by the voice. It had been surprisingly silent.

“After the mutant minority began to rise, there were skirmishes. Mutants were hated by Gracelings because they did not have the defining feature we do. Sure they might have wings, or fur, or one I heard had blue skin, but people had always had prejudices against those Graced. Our kind despised that some mutants could hide in plain sight, or were seen as a rarity to be treasured. Soon, mutants began to replace Gracelings within their jobs and communities. The mutants grew bitter because of the resentment the Gracelings began housing, and thus tensions grew.”

“Then there was war,” Tony muttered.

“Then there was war,” Mamma agreed. “There were losses on both sides, but the mutants had the backing of the public. Suffice to say, they won, and we slunk back into the shadows to disappear. You and I are the last ones in existence. Now, of course, there is hate against the mutants, but as you well know, they are still out there. I do not know what they would do if they found we still existed, and so, we remain hidden.”

“I never knew that story,” Uncle Nicky said, perplexed.

“So you two,” Agent motioned at Tony and Mamma. “Are Gracelings. Huh. Explains a lot, actually.”

Tony took out his contacts too, rubbing away the itchiness that always seemed to persist with the colored lenses. He and Mamma exchange a silent conversation with a few glances. “Yeah. My Grace is survival. Mamma’s is adaptation.”

“That...explains a lot more,” Coulson acquiesced. “So much makes sense now.”

Mamma pressed her lips together, resisting a smile.

“Daniel is going to be so mad he missed this,” Peggy announced. “He wanted to be able to see Phil’s face.”

“I’m sure we have it on security tapes somewhere,” Uncle Nicky assured her.

“Oh of course,” Aunt Peggy agreed.

“There is a small matter to attend to,” Tony said, rounding about to the topic at hand. “They may have seen us.”

Mamma gave a visible wince. “They couldn’t know.”

“We don’t have concrete evidence of that,” Nicky said. “Hell, they could have some motherfucker who reads minds. We simply don’t know.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that,” Aunt Peggy replied.

“What do you suggest we do? Wait?” Mamma ran a hand through her hair, clearly agitated.

“That’s all we can do,” Tony decided. “If they find us, we defend ourselves. Anything else, we can deal with when the time comes.”

Agent glanced around the room. “Are we in agreement then?”

Affirmatives responded to his question.

“Well then, I suppose I should go rescue Daniel from his time with Jack. Lord knows how many rounds they’ve already had, those stupidly stubborn men.”

“As if you wouldn’t outdrink them both,” Mamma teased.

Peggy only responded with a polite smile, running her card over the scanner by the door and exiting promptly.

Mamma replaced her contact and followed her out, not giving an explanation as to where she was going. Tony did the same and he and Coulson followed her.

“I know you have questions, Agent,” Tony said into the silence after they broke off down another corridor. “Go ahead, ask them.”

“How does your Grace work?” Was Coulson’s immediate inquiry.

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Tony began. “It’s like, a lot of things are instinct. And whenever I have to learn something, I can retain it almost immediately. It’s how I am able to go on missions for tech. Sometimes Sir lets me in his lab, or I sneak in and watch.”

“Right,” Coulson said. “So it’s mainly instinctual and habitual.”

“I do have a voice in my head sometimes,” Tony revealed. “It tells me what to do, like reading a situation and giving me instructions on how to deal with it.”

Tony caught the look that flickered across Agent’s face before he wiped it away and barked a short laugh.

“I guess it does sound pretty odd.”

“And your mother’s Grace?”

“That’s a bit harder for me to understand. Her things adaption or something like that, but there’s times when it, for lack of a better word, fails. It has it’s limits. Like, if she’s thrown into the middle of the rainforest or something, she would most definitely survive, but if she’s suddenly in, like, an urban setting with people hunting her, it’s a lot harder. I suppose it’s very nature based.”

Coulson tilted his head. “I can see it.”

“Yeah, at the very end of it all, we’re all just humans with slightly better instincts. Although, I once heard there was a Graceling who, with one smell, could identify whatever it is you needed-slash-wanted to eat. I think that would be pretty cool to have, instead of just standing in the cafeteria’s fridge for twenty minutes trying to decide.”

Laughing, Agent replied, “Sounds like a wonderful gift to have.”

Tony grinned, then caught sight of a familiar toy around Coulson’s belt. “Hey! You still have that knife I gave you?”

“Yeah,” he answered sheepishly. “It’s very handy, and terribly well-balanced.”

Tony snorted. “If you think that’s good, just wait until you see my newest version. I made it out of adamantium.”

“Of course you did,” Coulson said. “I trust you found a way to cast it?”

“Oh yeah, the process is super cool,” Tony assured him, grabbing his sleeve. “C’mon, we’ll go to the labs and I can show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk this seemed kinda flat but I finally have a mapped out idea of where we are going with this thing so let‘s rock and roll buckaroos
> 
> Also the Italian should be correct, although I am absolute trash at verb tenses to lmk if any of ya‘ll have a fix to make

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like!
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr @Watermelons000


End file.
